The Queen's Father
Duke Halbert, the queen’s father, had become a shuffling, muttering shadow that wandered the castle halls at all hours, disturbing the dogs and interrupting late-night trysts. He was pleasant enough when approached for conversation, but his words were disjointed and likely to have no relationship to the topic. When Elric, the queen’s chef, found Halbert outside the pantry at midnight, he asked, “Milord, are you hungry? You barely touched your supper.” “Old Bob used to bring us a string of trout on festival days. I went fishing with him one time, and he sprinkled some kind of dust on the water. He called it Fairy Cinders. Said he got it from an old lady in the woods.” Elric just stared. Not sure what to say and regretting he had started this conversation at all. “Here’s the strange part: when he sprinkled it on the water, fish would jump out, and we just needed to catch them.” Halbert made a grabbing motion and smiled. “It was great fun. Old Bob said the dust made the fish think